


Picture Frames

by MajicViolin



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajicViolin/pseuds/MajicViolin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike expected Harvey to fuck up, but he didn't think it would effect him this badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picture Frames

**Author's Note:**

> So... first shot in trying angst fics. I had this saved and I just finished it up. Yeah. Well, enjoy.

“Mike.”

The associate barely flinched when he looked up from his papers to find Louis looming over his cubicle. “Oh. Hey, Louis.” Mike winced when his voice cracked, drugged with no sleep and food. He pulled out his earphones. They weren’t playing anything, anyways. Mike just liked the excuse of not having to talk with people. “Do you need me to proof those cases for you?”

He made to grab the files, but Louis raised them out of his reach. He frowned when he noticed the other man’s demeanor change. The partner’s eyes were almost… kind. If Mike wasn’t so out of it, he would have shuddered.

Louis gestured at Mike to follow him. Confused, Mike ambled after the senior partner. They ended up in his office where Louis threw him a water bottle from his mini fridge. “Drink.”

The bottle was cold, already condensing under Mike’s hand. They were like tears.

Mike didn’t think he could stomach anything, but, rather than argue, he sipped listlessly.

“When was the last time you even ate, kid.” Louis was shaking his head, sitting down at his desk. “You look like you’re about to drop dead anytime now.”

Mike shrugged. Harvey was usually the one who dragged him out to dinner. Or, on those rare occasions, cooked for him. He was usually always too focused on cases to take care of himself. It was one of the things Harvey liked about Mike. His blind devotion to cases. Mike’s chest clenched at the memories.

“Hey.” Louis was suddenly standing by Mike, a hand on his shoulder. “I can send you home for the rest of the day if you need it.”

The associate shook his head, trying a smile. “Thanks, but I need work right now.” Reading legal papers kept his mind busy.

* * *

He returned to his desk with a fresh stack of papers dutifully ignoring the looks his co-workers shot him.

As he started setting up, his eyes caught the sole picture frame he kept in his cubicle. Kyle had cooed at him for going domestic, and Harold just patted Mike awkwardly on the shoulder, telling him it was a nice addition.

He set down the highlighter and gently grasped the frame, thumbing over the picture. It was a candid picture taken of him and Harvey. Donna had taken it, he remembered.  Harvey was holding Mike’s wrist in an attempt to steal a bite off of his hotdog. They were both laughing and leaning into each other.

Mike let the picture clatter facing down on his desk.

* * *

 

“Mike.”

The associate looked up from packing his bags.

Mike blinked. “Donna.”

She stopped in front of his cubicle and let out a small smile. “So, I haven’t seen you in a week.”

He glanced away and fiddled with his backpack strap. “Um yeah, big case with Louis. You know… Financing and all that.”

Donna hummed in bemusement. Mike cleared his throat and asked if she needed anything.

“No,” she shook her head slowly before fixing Mike a look, “Just… He’s sorry, Mike.”

And suddenly Mike wanted to laugh because – he’s _sorry_?! He sent Donna to tell him he’s sorry. Harvey had left him on their anniversary only to stumble back in the middle of the night with perfume and drinks draping all over his body. And he sent his assistance to say he's sorry. He rubbed his forehead and shook his head. Of course Mike should have known better. Harvey isn't into sappy traditions, but it’s been two years, and he really thought – he believed that Harvey would at least - and suddenly Mike doesn’t want to fight anymore.

He looks back at Donna as she continues on her monologue that Harvey must have given her, “I haven’t seen him this distressed since ever.  I know he can fuck up, but Mike,” she breathes, “he loves you and is begging for a second chance.”

Mike puts on his bag and brushes past Donna.

“He’s waiting for you,” she shouts at him as he continues to the elevators.

* * *

 

It’s freezing by the time he exists the building. He begins to pull on his gloves and scarf when he decides to forgo them. He unlocked his bike and clenched his teeth when the biting wind caught his exposed skin.

Mike felt hot tears trail across his cheek. He wiped angrily at them and hated everything right then. He hated Donna for the speech. He hated Harvey for being an asshole. And he hated himself for falling for Harvey as much as he did. Because it wouldn’t have been this hard to accept the fact Harvey didn’t want him as much as he wanted him. And it fucking hurt that everything he loves fails him in the end.

And somehow in the midst of his fuming, he ended up at the condo they bought after their first year together. Harvey had insisted on getting something that was theirs. Mike looked up; the top floor’s lights were still on. Donna’s words drifted back to him, then. _He’s waiting for you._

He locked his bike and waved listlessly to the guard that night who let him in the elevator with a “Welcome back, Mr. Ross.”

Mike rode the elevator up with a single purpose in his mind: he was going to pay Harvey back for everything he had done to him.

Before Mike could step out of the elevator, he heard a soft and broken whisper, “Mike?” And Harvey had stepped into the living room from the bedroom looking at Mike like he couldn’t believe he came back and was standing there in their home again.

And just like that, Mike felt the fight drain out of him. An emptiness of longing drowned him. He staggered in and almost fell when Harvey caught him around the waist.

Mike flinched from the touch and slapped Harvey’s hand away. “Don’t touch me.” Because he could still smell the stench of the bar Harvey had attended a week before. Edict memory is a bitch.

Harvey immediately stepped back. He nodded tersely and leaned back onto one of the sofas, looking everywhere but at Mike’s face.

“Why didn’t you go back home?”

Harvey raised his eyes to meet Mike’s. He curled his fingers around the sofa’s back and scrunched up his eyebrows. He wants to leave, Harvey thought.

“I was waiting for you.”

Mike let out a stuttering breath that had Harvey worrying. His hands looked raw red and so did his face. He must have biked here without protection.

“Why?”

And Harvey flinched at the tortured sound. Because I love you. Because I’m sorry. Because…

“Because you were supposed to come back.”

The confession seemingly echoed throughout the apartment. Harvey was breathing rapidly, trying to quell the knot that was threatening to constrict his chest. He felt hot and cold and restless. It was painful. He barely registered the ache in his hands from clenching so hard.

Harvey closed his eyes and whispered again, “You were supposed to come back.”

His eyes dropped to look at the floor warily. Harvey shook his head slowly, loosening his fist to brush some stray hair aside. “It doesn’t matter now. Just leave. Please. I’ll send a car to take you home.” Harvey still avoided Mike’s gaze, afraid to find what he was expecting: anger, rejection, pity. “I’ll sell this place; I can send someone to deliver your things.”

Harvey hated defeat. It was against even his will to lose things. But now, he accepted it. He’ll lose Mike. And it was okay for him. Because Mike deserved better and not some asshole who always created problems and who was emotionally stunted sometimes and – and cared for Mike like no other person living right now can.

He clenched his jaw and shoved his hands into his suit pants.

And in that quiet moment of grieving, Harvey realized the true meaning of regret. He wanted to turn around and grasp Mike by his shoulders and spew out apologies till the meaning gets lost and lean into his other half till their foreheads met and whisper endearing words. Harvey let out a deep sigh and pinched his nose bridge. The words “too late” circling around his mind and he just wanted it to _stop._ And Mike still hasn’t left and Harvey just wanted to break down without his presence so he mumbled out the request for him to leave again.

“Harvey.” Harvey hated himself more because _god_ Mike sounds so broken. He hears footsteps approach behind him. “Turn around.”

He lets himself be spun around by the hand leading him by his right shoulder. A freezing fist gently collided with his left cheek. “You son of a bitch.” But Mike is gently smiling with red eyes and tear stained cheeks and Harvey just – just _melts_.

They fall into each, then. So perfectly together that Harvey felt a shudder rack his body as he wrapped his arms tighter around Mike. He raised his head from where it was resting on Mike’s neck and kisses his temple. “I love you,” he whispered like it’s a secret. Because it is. He could count on one hand how many times he’s said the phrase.

Mike kisses the side of his mouth and smiles weakly. “Yeah.”

A kiss on his cheekbones. “I’m sorry.”

“Harvey…”

And because when Harvey falls, he falls hard he says with a kiss on Mike’s lips, “Don’t leave me.”

And because Mike loves him whole heartily, he replies, “I won’t.” 

**Author's Note:**

> No beta was used so all mistakes are mine.


End file.
